"
"You have killed our father, Nasie!" said Delphine, pointing to
Goriot, who lay unconscious on the bed. The Countess fled.
"I freely forgive her," said the old man, opening his eyes; "her
position is horrible; it would turn an older head than hers. Comfort
Nasie, and be nice to her, Delphine; promise it to your poor father
before he dies," he asked, holding Delphine's hand in a convulsive
clasp.
"Oh! what ails you, father?" she cried in real alarm.
"Nothing, nothing," said Goriot; "it will go off. There is something
heavy pressing on my forehead, a little headache. . . . Ah! poor
Nasie, what a life lies before her!"
Just as he spoke, the Countess came back again and flung herself on
her knees before him. "Forgive me!" she cried.
"Come," said her father, "you are hurting me still more."
"Monsieur," the Countess said, turning to Rastignac, "misery made me
unjust to you. You will be a brother to me, will you not?" and she
held out her hand. Her eyes were full of tears as she spoke.
"Nasie," cried Delphine, flinging her arms round her sister, "my
little Nasie, let us forget and forgive."
"No, no," cried Nasie; "I shall never forget!"
"Dear angels," cried Goriot, "it is as if a dark curtain over my eyes
had been raised; your voices have called me back to life.
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